


Too Pure to be Pink

by aliveanddrunkonsunlight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, F/M, Greasers, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-17 23:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19964833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveanddrunkonsunlight/pseuds/aliveanddrunkonsunlight
Summary: Jaime is a greaser who has always had eyes for the popular goody two shoes, Brienne Tarth, but she doesn’t know he exists. Will Brienne fall for a guy from the wrong side of the tracks?He’s looking at her with familiarity and recognition, but she’s sure she’s never seen him before. Always polite, she asks carefully, “Have we met before? I’m Brienne.” She reaches out a hand to shake his and a smile pulls at his face. Her stomach swoops. He has a gorgeous smile.“We don’t know each other. Not exactly. But we do go to the same school.” Brienne isn’t sure what to say. How has she never noticed him? “It’s okay,” he says quickly, clearly not wanting her to feel bad. “We run in different circles.”“Well, our paths are crossing now….” she trails off, waiting for him to supply his name, but he’s too busy giving her the once over. Her cheeks flush. “I’m sorry, you didn’t say your name.”His head snaps up at her voice. “Jaime,” he breathes. “My name is Jaime.”





	Too Pure to be Pink

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I wrote a Grease headcanon. This is the only part for now. I wanted to write their meet cute.
> 
> AKAs: Sadie is Sansa, Robby is Renly

She was at a bar. One of her father’s rules already broken, what was another?   
  
Wandering outside, she appreciates having a moment to herself, the noise of the bar fading behind her. But she’s not alone. A few feet away, at the edge of the parking lot, a guy in a leather jacket is polishing his motorcycle. Why is he out here and not inside enjoying the party?   
  
She takes a cigarette out of her purse. She doesn’t usually smoke, but her best friend Sadie loaned her a few for tonight. “So we’ll fit in.” Sadie’s boyfriend was a year older, already in college, and Sadie had been begging him to take them to a real college party. This wasn’t exactly what Brienne pictured, but she was having fun.   
  
Except she doesn’t have a lighter. Her gaze falls to the guy and his motorcycle. She smoothes her skirt, straightens her cardigan, and crosses the parking lot before giving it a second thought. He must hear her heels clicking towards him but he keeps polishing his bike. His fingers are long and slim as he smoothes the rag along the chrome ever so carefully. “Hey,” she says once she’s close enough. “Do you have a light?”   
  
He looks up from where he’s squatting by the bike, eyes widening in surprise when he sees her and scrambles to his feet. “Uh, hi.”   
  
He’s tall, made even taller by the rise of his perfectly coiffed blonde hair. His green eyes catch the yellow of the neon sign above the bar and she notices the shadow of facial hair along the perfect line of his chiseled jaw. He’s beautiful, Brienne thinks. She realizes she must be nearly ogling him so she focuses her gaze on his. He’s looking at her with familiarity and recognition, but she’s sure she’s never seen him before. Always polite, she asks carefully, “Have we met before? I’m Brienne.” She reaches out a hand to shake his and a smile pulls at his face. Her stomach swoops. He has a gorgeous smile.  
  
“We don’t know each other. Not exactly. But we do go to the same school.” Brienne isn’t sure what to say. How has she never noticed him? “It’s okay,” he says quickly, clearly not wanting her to feel bad. “We run in different circles.”  
  
“Well, our paths are crossing now….” she trails off, waiting for him to supply his name, but he’s too busy giving her the once over. Her cheeks flush. “I’m sorry, you didn’t say your name.”  
  
His head snaps up at her voice. “Jaime,” he breathes. “My name is Jaime.”  
  
“Jaime.” She tests it out and smiles at him. “I’m sorry they haven’t crossed before.” It’s not exactly what she meant to say. Our paths, she corrects herself in her head, but she feels a little light-headed, a little tongue-tied. He raises his eyebrows. Did she just flirt? “Now, do you have a light or am I going to have to go back inside?” She _was_ flirting. The words were simply falling out of her mouth. She spent so much time studying tips in ladies’ magazines with Sadie and never felt she would master it. Flirting wasn’t really her. She wanted someone to notice her. It was old-fashioned, but she knew she’d be too shy to ever say anything to someone she liked. Although, she had never liked anyone before. So there was that, too.   
  
Jaime reaches a hand around to his back pocket and pulls out a silver lighter, as shiny as the chrome on his bike. He flicks his thumb and the small flame flares to life. She’s staring at his hands, a good few feet away. She seems frozen to the spot, realizing how close she will have to come to him in order to light her cigarette. He takes a step closer, then another, his other hand coming up to cup the flame so the wind doesn’t blow it out. His hands smell a bit chemical, probably from the bike polish, but then as he draws closer, there’s a spicy musk which fills her nose, and she can feel her knees weaken.   
  
“Thank you,” she says, exhaling a stream of smoke, trying to ignore how her hands are shaking.   
  
He slips the lighter back into his pocket. “You know, you shouldn’t smoke.”   
  
Brienne lets out a laugh and chokes a little on the smoke. _Way to be cool_ , she thinks. “And you shouldn’t really ride a motorcycle.”   
  
His eyes widen, his cheeks pulling up into a quick grin before he’s laughing. A deep, throaty laugh. “You may be right.” He throws her a wink and hooks his hands into his back pockets. Every movement he makes looks effortlessly cool. “You ever ridden one?”   
  
Her stomach tightens at the very idea. “No,” she replies, her voice small. She flicks ash from her cigarette, like she and Sadie had practiced. _Please don’t ask me._ If he does, she won’t be able to say no. She imagines her body pressed into his back, her arms wrapped around his waist, her chin tucked into his shoulder. Her stomach twists again, her knees shaky, and as she turns slightly to the side to tap the ash off the cigarette, her ankle twists the wrong way. She stumbles forward, flinging her cigarette to the ground, as her hands come forward to catch herself on the ground. Brienne braces for the impact, but a pair of strong arms wraps around her instead. Jaime keeps her upright and she finds herself staring into his green eyes, her hands pressed into his chest. “Gosh, I’m sorry.”   
  
She tries to remove herself from his grasp as soon as possible, but he holds on to her, hand firm at her elbow to make sure she’s steady on her feet. “Whoa, whoa, wait a second. Are you alright? Can you walk on your ankle?” Brienne looks down at her feet and tries to put weight on her right foot, flinching.   
  
“You’re okay,” Jaime soothes. “This is what we’re going to do. Put your weight on your left foot. Can you do that?” She nods. “Okay. Hold onto my hand.” He slides his left hand into her right. His palm is rough with callouses, probably from working on his bike, but it’s warm and steady, and Brienne’s grateful for his calm demeanor. “I’m going to come around to your right side and you need to put your arm around my shoulders so you can lean against me. We’ll go inside and get some ice for that ankle.”  
  
“Thank you,” she says again, feeling a bit helpless.   
  
“You’re welcome.” He smiles warmly at her before moving to her right side. She does as he told her, slipping his right arm around his shoulders, his leather jacket cool against her skin. “Now, slowly.” Jaime maneuvers them in a half-circle, heading towards the front entrance.  
  
“I guess you’re right,” she tells him, trying to lighten the mood. “I really shouldn’t smoke.” He laughs softly in her ear.   
  
As soon as they’re through the door, Sadie appears at her other side. “Oh my, what happened?”   
  
“I’m fine,” Brienne grimaces. “I tripped and twisted my ankle, I think.”   
  
“That’s putting it mildly,” Jaime says, teasing her.   
  
“Who are you?” Sadie demands haughtily.   
  
“Jaime,” he says, as if it’s enough of an answer.   
  
Sadie looks to Brienne helplessly. “My knight in shining armor,” she says by way of explanation as Jaime lowers her slowly down into one of the booths.   
  
The bar is dim, but if Brienne knew him better, she would swear he was blushing. “I’ll get some ice,” he says in her ear, his soft voice made difficult to hear with the jukebox blasting.   
  
“Who is he?!” Sadie demands as soon as he was out of earshot.   
  
“Jaime,” she shrugs. “He says he goes to our school, but I’ve never seen him before.”   
  
Sadie studies her friend’s face, realization dawning. “Brienne, you cannot be friends with him. He’s a _greaser_. Your dad will kill you.”   
  
“You’re the one who wanted to come here. Not me.” She reminds her. “Besides, he’s not like the rest of them. He helped me.”   
  
“I’ll find Robby. We should get you home.” Brienne starts to object, but Sadie disappears into the smoky bar.   
  
Jaime is back at her side, a cup of ice in one hand and a Coke with a cherry and straw in the other. “Thought you might be able to use this.” He pulls a red handkerchief from his back pocket, drops a few cubes of ice in it, and wraps the handkerchief up around it. He sits on the other side of the booth, where she has her leg extended in front of her. “Uh,” he looks flustered once again. “Do you want to take off your shoe?”   
  
“Oh,” she sits up and moves her leg back towards her, careful to adjust her skirt so it doesn’t slide above her knees, and slips off her heel. Jaime tries to avert his gaze, but does a poor job of it. Where it might have embarrassed her before, now it makes her heart quicken to catch him watching her.   
  
“Okay,” he says when she has her foot propped up next to him again. “This is going to be cold.” She nods, bracing herself. He presses the handkerchief gently against her ankle. As gently as he was polishing his bike earlier, she thinks. His warm fingertips graze against her skin and she sucks in a sudden breath. “You all right?” he asks, raising his eyes to her. She simply nods, unable to speak.   
  
She wants to ask why he’s being so nice to her. If Sadie is to be believed, none of the greasers have any manners, and the girls they go with are even worse. Last year, one of them got caught in the backseat of a car with a boy and was sent away to Catholic school. Jaime removes the cloth to replace a few of the ice pieces with new ones and presses it to her ankle again. He looks up at her, his jaw clenching before he speaks. “Why are you here?”   
  
“What?” she can barely hear him over the music.   
  
“I said, why are you here?”  
  
Brienne feels stupid. Of course. He was only being nice to her because he could see how out of place she was. Was it really that obvious? “It seemed like fun. My friend, her boyfriend, wanted to bring us here.”   
  
“Which one is he?” Jaime glances around.   
  
“The one with curly dark hair. Robert.” She can see him and Sadie deep in conversation. He’s wearing his blue letterman cardigan. Only a freshman but already varsity on the college baseball team. He is, as they say about movie stars, classically good-looking. Square jawed with brown eyes which seemed to twinkle when he smiled. But it was his hair which all the girls swooned over. His gorgeous curly hair.  
  
Brienne would never tell Sadie this, but she’s always had a crush on Robby. They live in the same neighborhood and used to play together as kids. As they got older, it became clear Robby would never notice her that way. No one did. She was too much. Too tall, her eyes too big, her lips too puffy, her freckles too many, her hands too large. Of course he would fall for her best friend, who had beautiful auburn hair, pretty blue eyes, and a tiny waist. No one would ever describe Brienne as tiny or pretty. “He shouldn’t be here either.” Jaime’s response surprises her. His voice is brusque, not soft like before. “It’s not his place.”   
  
“They’re going to take me home.” She moves her ankle out of his grasp. “You’ve done enough for tonight.”   
  
His eyes are startled, as if she’s slapped him. But his voice is more even when he speaks again. “Suit yourself. But you should keep your foot elevated tonight. Helps with the swelling.”   
  
Brienne feels chastened. “Thank you,” she tells him for the millionth time, not knowing how else to express her gratitude.  
  
He stands and nods at her, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal. “Sure.” Jaime sticks his hands in his jacket pockets. “Maybe when your ankle heals I can take you on your first bike ride.” His mouth curves up at the ends, half teasing, half serious.   
  
She starts to say something in response, but by the time the words come, she’s already staring at his back, watching as he lopes away, her mind whirling.


End file.
